Post by obobfla on Jul 25, 2019 16:56:34 GMT -5
I have been meaning to post this for awhile. Started a few times and hinted about it in other posts. But then I thought it didn’t fit this forum. After all, I am no longer married and no longer sexless. I’ve been in a steady relationship for awhile, although lately it hasn’t been as steady as I’d like. I might put myself back on the market.
For those who don’t know, I was married to a mentally ill woman, whose paranoia rendered our marriage sexless for its last five years. I stayed married to her, as divorce would be too expensive. I doubted she could live on her own. A few affairs kept me sane, but they didn’t last. I wanted out, but I couldn’t find a way out.
Then about three years ago, my wife’s thyroid started acting up. Her heart got weaker. Then doctors noticed a lump on her breast. She had cancer. The oncologist recommended chemo, but one treatment put her in the hospital. She needed heart surgery. After the heart surgery came the mastectomy. She spent six months trying to recover but got sepsis. She died a year ago last December, right before Christmas.
When my wife was alive, I felt that I had wrapped myself in a full-body bandage. When she died, the bandages were figuratively ripped off all at once. The air hit my exposed wounds, stinging me all over.
Widowhood sucks. Yes, so does divorce, but I would give anything to be divorced from my wife and have her alive. We could talk about how our son is doing and catch up on each other’s families. We could remember what good times we had together.
i am ok now, and so is my son. We have found plenty of support, although it’s been tough in a number of ways. My wife didn’t have life insurance, so we have been struggling financially. I’m finally getting my finances together. Then there is the blender of emotions I’ve been through - sadness, relief, guilt from feeling relieved, anger at the world in general, fear because I was alone, and more emptiness.
I became a single parent, with no co-parent or every other weekend free like divorced parents have. And there was no one else to blame if anything went wrong. It is all on me. The parents of my son’s best friend are separated, but they still both come to watch their son play basketball, even sitting together. I envy them.
So, what does this have to do with a sexless marriage? I didn’t think it did, but then a friend of mine died. His wife had left him, mainly because he would not have sex with her. But they never officially got divorced, so she was his widow. After he died, she did a postmortem on the marriage. Where did she go wrong? Why didn’t she see the signs? Should she have married him in the first place?
As much as we want to believe in eternal love and soulmates, all marriages end. Whether it’s divorce or death, we leave our spouses. Those of us on this forum either have sick marriages or had a marriage die. While we may feel relief when we leave, we eventually grieve the loss of our marriage. Like my friend’s wife, we wonder what went wrong.
I’ve rambled, but there is one video I found that helped me through the grieving process. The speaker talks about the pitfalls of “moving on. Instead, she says we should “move forward.” I think her talk applies to anyone who has lost a spouse, whether by death or divorce.
For those who don’t know, I was married to a mentally ill woman, whose paranoia rendered our marriage sexless for its last five years. I stayed married to her, as divorce would be too expensive. I doubted she could live on her own. A few affairs kept me sane, but they didn’t last. I wanted out, but I couldn’t find a way out.
Then about three years ago, my wife’s thyroid started acting up. Her heart got weaker. Then doctors noticed a lump on her breast. She had cancer. The oncologist recommended chemo, but one treatment put her in the hospital. She needed heart surgery. After the heart surgery came the mastectomy. She spent six months trying to recover but got sepsis. She died a year ago last December, right before Christmas.
When my wife was alive, I felt that I had wrapped myself in a full-body bandage. When she died, the bandages were figuratively ripped off all at once. The air hit my exposed wounds, stinging me all over.
Widowhood sucks. Yes, so does divorce, but I would give anything to be divorced from my wife and have her alive. We could talk about how our son is doing and catch up on each other’s families. We could remember what good times we had together.
i am ok now, and so is my son. We have found plenty of support, although it’s been tough in a number of ways. My wife didn’t have life insurance, so we have been struggling financially. I’m finally getting my finances together. Then there is the blender of emotions I’ve been through - sadness, relief, guilt from feeling relieved, anger at the world in general, fear because I was alone, and more emptiness.
I became a single parent, with no co-parent or every other weekend free like divorced parents have. And there was no one else to blame if anything went wrong. It is all on me. The parents of my son’s best friend are separated, but they still both come to watch their son play basketball, even sitting together. I envy them.
So, what does this have to do with a sexless marriage? I didn’t think it did, but then a friend of mine died. His wife had left him, mainly because he would not have sex with her. But they never officially got divorced, so she was his widow. After he died, she did a postmortem on the marriage. Where did she go wrong? Why didn’t she see the signs? Should she have married him in the first place?
As much as we want to believe in eternal love and soulmates, all marriages end. Whether it’s divorce or death, we leave our spouses. Those of us on this forum either have sick marriages or had a marriage die. While we may feel relief when we leave, we eventually grieve the loss of our marriage. Like my friend’s wife, we wonder what went wrong.
I’ve rambled, but there is one video I found that helped me through the grieving process. The speaker talks about the pitfalls of “moving on. Instead, she says we should “move forward.” I think her talk applies to anyone who has lost a spouse, whether by death or divorce.
